Death
by Dakalu23385
Summary: In this L&C fic, Lucy starts getting these weird dreams, telling her what to do, and George starts acting weirdly. If the voice she is hearing isn't the skull, who, or what, is it...? **dramatic music starts up in the background, you open the story and read it, and review it (preferably now?)** (so sorry, this fic is abandoned because of lack of inspiration)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** **: Do I need to? Johnathan Stroud wouldn't write a Fanfiction about his own book, he can write an actual book and shove it into his series. I think. So, anything remotely good: Johnathan's, not mine.**

 **A/N** **: Hi! This is my first Lockwood and Co story, and my second Fanfiction, so don't be harsh in your reviews. Please. I have cookies! (::) The cookie rule shall be broken in this Fanfiction numerous times. I am breaking it as I write. Yeah... So, on with it! *Dramatic flourish***

 **Oh! Also, please R &R! And tell me if the PoV is all wrong and the characters are acting weirdly or what not. Way to ruin the dramaticness, but I was way too melodramatic. Sorry...**

I woke up, feeling like I was going to puke. I could still see the bones of the Raw-bones we uncovered in our last case, mouldy, covered in spiders webs and grim looking, with bits of flesh dangling off. A new body, but of course only George was the only one truly interested in it.

Most agents would just add the bones to the long list of things that they didn't need to see, but naturally, I had to be the one to have the image imprinted to the back of my eye lids.

'Just great. G _reat_ ,' I mutter under my breath. George raises an eyebrow at me, from across the table, and before I could tell him to shut up, he speaks.

"Pardon?" I glare at him. He was going to make a great speech about talking to yourself now. Wasn't he, "You know Lucy, the first sign of madness is-" I cut him off.

"Living with George? Because it seems to me that _you_ are the one who got nude with a ghost, George." Lockwood smiles at George's expression.

"Nicely phrased Lucy," he says, looking at me kindly. I try not to smile to broadly back, as George had got it into his fat head that me and Lockwood would make a great couple. George snorts, in a way that said: Why do I put up with this every day?

Still smiling slightly, Lockwood asks whether there are any new cases to look forward to. George shakes his head,

"No. That lady, Eileen Smithers, has heard a strange, unholy ululation that starts at around two, and stops at around four, and it comes from-" Lockwood raises an eyebrow, and cuts George off,

"Again? I am sure we have cleared her house of 'ghosts' several times." George snorts.

"More than that, at least four times now. Come to think about it..." I cough, George stops abruptly, glares at me, and continues, "Anyway, as I was saying, there's also a strange knocking sound coming from a cupboard in an extremely 'old and haunted' house, up in Kent, so I went to the Archives, but all I found was a very old guy with some sort of disease died a couple of months after he became blind. Not very powerful, but could do with _remembering the iron chains,_ " he pointedly looks at Lockwood, "Not naming any names, of course." Lockwood sighs,

"I told you: if _you_ hadn't gone and oiled the chains, then _I_ wouldn't have even had to go listening to you blabbering on and blaming me for 'leaving them behind!'" I cough loudly, stopping them from giving me a headache for the next three hours, while they 'battle it out' as George calls it.

"Well," I begin, "While you argue about that, _I_ am going to eat the pancakes if you don't mind." George stops his newly begun sentence/argument, and looks at Lockwood.

"See! Now we need a pancake rule too!" Lockwood laughs,

"We need a lot more rules according to Barnes, so I wouldn't worry about that, George. Also, you just break them all." George snorts, and says something that sounds suspiciously like,

"Ha! You can talk! Look at Lucy!" And while I busy myself eating pancakes, thinking of the poor tom cat stuck in Miss Smithers' dusty old attic and getting thoroughly annoyed at George, Lockwood excuses himself to go upstairs to have a shower.

Once I have finished stabbing each pancake, drowning them in syrup and eating them grumpily, I get up and go down to the rapier room to kill some dummies.

I dodged Joe and chop his arm off; ' _Oops_ ,' I think, but then I knock Esmeralda into my path, and she hits me onto the floor.

"Argh!" I exclaim, feeling slightly foolish, being hit in the face by a dummy. I hear George on the stairs, coming down to investigate, and I stand up quickly.

"What on earth! You've gone and killed Joe! Again!" I sigh,

"George?" he looks up, "It is a dummy." He sighs too.

"Yes, but now _I_ have to go sew his arm back on. By _hand._ Urgh!" I sigh, once more, before leaving the room and heading upstairs to my room.

The man with the 'Haunted House,' was coming here in about an hour, according to George, so I decided that if the boys weren't going to set a good 1st impression, I might at least try to set a good example, so I go upstairs to change into something slightly better than my old ripped-at-the-jeans-and-about-to-die-but-I-cannot-be-bothered-to-go-and-buy-some-more-jeans jeans.

I opened my wardrobe and looked for some other jeans, or a skirt, or leggings, or something that would be suitable to wear. And I saw:

Leggings.

Leggings.

Leggings.

And a shirt.

That was it. Oh, and there was _a_ skirt and some more leggings and two pairs of socks and a dwindling amount of underwear. Woo-hoo, let's be the one to set a good example with _that_ wardrobe. Doesn't work, does it.

In the end, I settle for a tight black t-shirt and a cardigan, along with the classic leggings and skirt. And wait. And wait. And sit down, smooth my skirt and... Wait.

 _Finally_ , there is a knock at the door and Lockwood appears out of nowhere to answer it.

"GEORGE!" he shouts, "COME AN GREET THE GUEST!" George comes up, grumbling about the fact that it is _way_ past lunch time and holding a needle, thread and Joe's hand, which appeared to have fallen off too.

I check the clock: 1:36. _So_ not past lunch! We would normally have lunch at quarter to two, so George could wait another nine minutes. Hopefully he won't eat all the dohnuts which were laid out beautifully on the table along with some biscuits.

"Well, seeing as there _isn't_ a dohnuts rule, I may as well take some," he says, and takes a dohnut and shoves it down his gob.

I sigh, and listen to the voices at the door.

It sounds like a very young man, but with a very boring voice, so I tune out and stare into space.

The man comes into the room, and me and George stand.

The man has thin, short hair, and is tall and thin. He wears a grey jacket, a grey hat, and a grey pair of trousers. The only part of him that wasn't grey was his eyes. Piercing blue, they stare through you.

The man talks about the nightly disturbances and how his grandfather died of a strange unknown illness when he was seventy, and how depressing his life was and then complained a bit more until George told his to shut up and go.

Well, he didn't put it quite like that, but the tone implied it.

Once the man had shut up and gone, Lockwood stood up.

"Luce, check through the bags again and I'll call a night cab, we have a case."


	2. How to Mess up a Case:

**How to Mess Up a Case:**

 **Disclaimer:** **I don't own it. Do I need to say it again? If I did own Lockwood and Co, I would pay for my grades to be higher**

 **A/ N:** **I have finally read every single Lockwood and Co fanfiction. Before you ask about Locklye, I'll think about it. I'm not good with fluff, so don't expect anything major. Thank you for choosing my fanfiction over the many (36) other fanfictions, and thank you to the anonymous review, I shall take that into consideration, thank you to hiddeninthelibrary too (I'll update the summary too) and thank you to the Guest review too. () ( ) (::) I've also written the next couple of chapters, so I'll try to post them every week or so, rather than all at once. It'll be quicker with more reviews... ;)**

George almost immediately started complaining. He was: cold, tired, hungry, and annoyed that there was nothing else in the Archives, and more hungry (apparently).

What was wrong with not having something to eat every 10 seconds? If everyone else survives, he can. Yeesh.

Besides, I was not the one to forget his coat, that was his fault. Totally not mine. He was supposed to check the bags, not me!

I grab a mint out of my pocket and push it into my mouth, savouring the taste.

The house was large, but most of it was new, so we would be doing some exploring before we found the oldest parts, that would contain the source from sixty years ago.

Because the remains of the boy are going to be over fifty years old, there was no way that people were going to have secured the bones properly, and as the man said, when he had inherited the house, he had moved around the furniture, and that may have risen the ghost from its peacefulness.

Well, as peaceful as a ghost that has risen from the dead can be.

The second that we had stepped onto the property, I sensed... Nothing.

Well, strictly speaking I sensed something, just a small whining sound, like a baby, but it was very weak and not dangerous, but simply annoying. This is probably why the man wanted to remove the ghost, because it was a nuisance.

His pet bunny (which roams around the house for no apparent reason) never went near the cupboard, so we figured that the source was in there, but that may not be the case. I mean, it's unlikely that the man's skeleton is stuffed into the cupboard, and if it is I would be quite surprised, so I figured that the source is not his "organic remains."

So we're spending the night looking through a dirty old cupboard looking for some old source.

" _Great_ ," I think to myself.

Lockwood glances in my direction,

"Sense anything unusual, Lucy?" he asks me, and I shake my head,

"No, I sense a small whining noise, like a child, nothing else." He nods, "And you?" I ask.

"I sense a couple of death glows, but I can't see any yet," he replies, "George? What have you got?" George glances down at the thermometer in his hands,

"10 degrees Celsius, average for an October night." Lockwood nods,

"Come on then, we'd better get moving if we want to complete this case by morning," he grins, and begins to walk towards the door. He opens the door and steps gingerly inside, and I do not hesitate to follow in with George.

The first thing that we all notice is the spider webs. They are all over the threshold, gathering everywhere and anywhere. I am careful not to disturb any of the webs that aren't in the way, but that's almost impossible; the house is swarming in them.

As any other sensible agent would, we followed the trail of webs, found the cupboard, found the source, got the money and left-right? Wrong.

The first thing that went wrong is that George dropped his thermometer into a cluster of spider webs, and we had to spend five minutes fishing it out again.

Then we realised that all this fuss about the cupboard was entirely incorrect. The boiler broke down. It was the basement.

By now, I'm thinking, " _Gosh, nothing can get much worse now_!" But of _course_ something can always get worse, because at this point, the temperature was now -5 degrees, and George was still complaining about his coat, even though I had given him my coat, and so I was freezing, and about five different breeds of spiders had fallen in love with my hair.

Then George hexed the case by saying almost the same thing out loud, so I gave up on shaking spiders out of my hair and shivering, because there was no point anymore and glared at George enviously for having a coat.

We battled our way through spiders to get the source, and when we did, the source was outside of the basement, not in the basement, so we backed up, walked around the house, through thorny bushes and found the source was a mangled scarf, tied loosely around a branch at the top of a tree in the back garden, so Lockwood climbed up, wheezing slightly, to the top of the tree to retrieve and seal the source while we waited impatiently at the bottom of the tree.

Hopefully, we thought, the ghosts weren't going to be powerful enough to push, hurt, trip or annoy Lockwood while he was up there, but we couldn't be sure. This is why I and George were prepared to catch a falling Lockwood if necessary, though neither of us said anything.

George stood under the tree, and I stood nearby, in case a ghost attacked George and Lockwood while no one was looking, so I had a canister of salt ready, nothing was coming, no sense of angry or calm ghosts when suddenly... A sweeping sensation passed by my leg.

Lockwood was climbing down the tree at an awkward angle and then he lost his footing. Fell.

"LOCKWOOD!" I scream at him, because he was trying to grab hold of a branch. The ghost was coming. What to do. What to do... I lunge across George, who was fumbling with some rope for no reason whatsoever, and I push him away in the process. No doubt he'll complain later but no matter.

I jump at the ghost. Not sensible.

Fortunately, I had so much iron on me that the ghost moved away, but some plasm singed my skirt.

I chucked the canister of salt at the tree, most of it blasting Lockwood and the tree, but some got the ghost.

I hope it hurt.

I couldn't breathe. I could hear a whispering voice, and the world was actually disappearing from sight. Not normal. Not normal. Warn Lockwood. Other ghost here. Warn George.

"Lockw-" I begin, but the world was gone for good. I collapsed.

I woke up in a hospital bed.

I could hear hushed voices and my eyes were red and puffy. My vision was blurred and I could smell antiseptic. I could hear Lockwood and a doctor talking in the background. I tried to sit up, but I couldn't move. I could see the rough outline of someone above me making measurements.

"Should we wake her?"

"She should wake up in about an hour, that ghost touch was pretty fierce."

"Hm... Alright then"

Ghost touch?! Surely that would mean I should have been either dead, or I've been unconscious for 2 days! Three, if it's as 'fierce' as the doctor makes out.

"Four days is a bit long for ghost touch though, Dr Weneight, I mean, I was only in here for a couple of days..."

FOUR! Four days! I had missed four days of my life! Four! Yeesh, the ghost touch really was bad.

I tried to sit up again, and found that it was easier this time, but then stopped and eased myself down slowly when Lockwood began speaking again, "Doctor, you have to understand, Lucy is the best agent we have: George is more of a researcher and I shut myself up with the past constantly, whereas Lucy, well she... She takes it seriously, but not too seriously, and she always puts others needs in front of her own, and I respect her for that. It should be me dying in that bed right now..."

I open my eyes a fraction to stare up at Lockwood's face. The doctor nodded,

"I quite understand." There was an awkward silence, where my thoughts raced. Best agent? Lockwood respects me? I take things _seriously?_ I was tempted to ask whether Lockwood knew more than one Lucy, but I knew that was ridiculous. Anyone idiot can tell me that.

I figured this would be a great time to wake up and pretend to be oblivious to what just happened, so I "woke up" and then sat up right in my bed,

"Lucy! You're alright!" I nod, still a bit perplexed by what I had just heard, but I managed to croak out a small,

"Yes." The doctor nodded,

"It is only natural for your voice to be a bit croaky, seeing as you haven't been using it for just over four days," Dr Weneight stated, and I tried to pretend to be shocked, seeing as I "didn't know this."

"Four days?! But normally it's only around-" the doctor cut me off, I was sort of glad too, I'm not that good at acting.

"Yes, four day, I know it would normally be only two or three days, but you had severe ghost touch, and so your body needed a longer period of time to heal." I groan again,

"What have I missed?" Lockwood smiles,

"Not much really, the Eileen called to tell me that it was just the wind rattling the panes, and that it wasn't a ghost and we completed the previous case and George is working on another one right now."

"On his own?" I'm sorry, but I cannot imagine how George would survive a case on his own.

"No. He's in the archives researching." I nod,

"Oh." It was really awkward actually, because I think the doctor could sense that I had been awake for quite a while, but fortunately he hadn't mentioned it to Lockwood. Yet.

Lockwood stood up, I hadn't noticed he was sitting down, but it was now evident that he was a lot taller than the doctor, and started to walk away,

"I'm going back, I'll see you when you're ready," and at that he walked straight out of the door, leaving me confused as to whether he knew I had heard, or not.

 **A/N: that was long! Phew. I nearly ended the chapter where Lucy fainted, but I found it too short, so you get an extra-long chapter! Phew! Cookies to reviews and the reviewers! () ( ) (::)**


	3. Weddings:

**Wedding!**

 **Disclaimer:** **I no own Johnny work.**

 **A/N:** **Thank you all that reviewed! (Celestialite and ligersrcool) I'm definitely putting in Locklye! You all win! Okay. The other fic (Haircut) was a tester for my Lockyle skills, which I have discovered are terrible. Updating may be all over the place, and not very regular, as Wi-Fi is bad in my house, and it's SUMMER! SCHOOL'S OUT! Woo! Right. I'll, err, go now... (#HYPER!)**

The next couple of days were as normal as could be, but Lockwood was overly nice to me. It was sort of nice, and sort of disturbing. It also frustrated me that every time Lockwood or I exchanged words, George put on this knowing face, which just annoyed me to no end.

Breakfast, for example, was one of the most awkward times of the day now. Lockwood, constantly looking at me and talking politely, George, giving me "the look" and giving out sarcastic hints that were _way_ too obvious. Even Lockwood noticed and told him to shut it. I, well I just sat around and tried not to hit George over the head with a shovel. Even high fiving would be dangerous. I'd probably miss and slap him in the face. By accident of course.

So, of course, awkward moments come and go, and others stay, like the hospital, but there is one unforgivable awkward extreme moment that George was responsible. Sly and subtle hints: I can deal with that (barely), but full on, in the face, "hint-hint, ha-ha" was unacceptable.

Lockwood, George and I were all sat in the living room of Portland Road, when Lockwood asked for the case book. George told me to go get the case book. Me, being stubborn, refused. Him, being an infuriating little cow, told me to go get. Lockwood, being a sensible person, told us to shut up, and he got it.

So, then I was like: fine, fine, everything's perfectly normal, and then _George_ comments loudly, before Lockwood could reach the door,

"So when's the wedding Lucy?" and I, being as stupid as anything, fell straight into it, and asked,

"What wedding?" Lockwood, being sensible, stopped and decided not to leave the room, so that things didn't end up with George in hospital, but that made it more awkward of course. So, George replied,

"You and Lockwood's wedding, duh!" and that was just awkward extreme.

"Shut up, George!" I mutter.

Lockwood seemed to have forgotten all words, but regained quickly, after a moment of awkward silence,

"George: stop being childish. Besides, I heard you met with Flo Bones the other day,"

"She was lingering outside the library! I just asked her why she was there!" And I calmly kept my temper, Lockwood got the case book and that was the end.

No. So no. I, being as short tempered as I am, lost my temper and stood up the second Lockwood left.

"George, I can survive subtle hints of your ridicule, but that was unacceptable!" I hiss at him. He shrugs and thinks for a moment.

"I was just wondering Lucy. You do seem smitten with him."

"I do not!"

"Do."

"Don't!" And so we continued our childish argument up until Lockwood re-entered and we fell silent.

"Everything alright?" George and I nod, "Good." Lockwood opens the casebook, "Right, we have three cases this week and two for the following week, we also have Miss Caluor coming from Kent about a 'small, tapping sound' coming from the bottom of her garden. Apparently her nephew was staying with her when he saw a small child near a hollowed out and burnt oak tree in her garden, and-"

"Stone knocker. Probably killed and then hidden in the tree." George grunts,

"Thank you for that brilliantly deduced report."

"Thank you for the thank you." George huffed.

"Well, she's due in about 10 minutes, so it's lucky you got the case book, Lockwood." Lockwood smiles and stands.

"George, get some tea and biscuits ready, Lucy, neaten the living room, it looks like a tornado's been through here, and I'll clean the crumbs and stuff from the dining room."

 **A/N: No! I'M NOT DOING GLO! Phew. Anyway, I may not update very regularly anymore, becasue my granny's just had stroke. :/ I'm OK, but not great.**


	4. An Unexpected Visitor:

**An Unexpected Visitor:**

 **Disclaimer: I no own this.**

 **A/N: Alright! Alright! I'll do some Glo to satisfy the needs of my readers. Hm... How can I sip that into my fanfiction...? Anyway, while I ponder on** ** _that,_** **I am here to announce that I am** ** _finally_** **updating, as you know, if you are reading this... Ah, not quite as big a surprise as I had wished... Ignore that. Okay, I'll better start. Now. Okay. () ( ) (::) OH, OH! Big thank you to** **Celestialite and ligersrcool for reviewing! Anyway, again-I'll better start.**

After the awkward incident that happened only a few days ago, George and I were slightly frosty around each other, and Lockwood would keep on forcing polite conversation on us. My temper wasn't of the best lately either, especially with George and all, but he would just keep on pushing it, and pushing it, and pushing it, and I didn't know how I would survive any longer in the same house as him, until I found something that I could tease him about.

Flo Bones. It was so simply immature and George-like, that I cringed at the thought first, but then I picked up subtle hints that Lockwood was doing it, such as,

"Met anyone outside the library today, George?" and other small comments to get him back, so I thought,

"If Lockwood can tease George and get away with it, so can I!" This was possibly the most stupid idea I have ever had in all of my time. So, when Lockwood does his brilliant comment about the library, I slip in my comment, asking if he'd seen a certain Flo Bones. Surprisingly, George didn't take this very well.

"Will you just shut up, Lucy? I've had it up to here," he made a vast hand gesture, "with you, and your stupid comments about Flo Bones! So what if I saw her? Does it matter? No! You're acting like an immature child! And you-" he pointed, rudely, to Lockwood, "You are just as bad! You and your flirting with Lucy! You and your: I'm so brilliant! Everyone loves me! You started it! You are just so... infuriating! I cannot work. I cannot think. Okay?! IT DOESN'T MATTER IF I KISSED FLO!" Shocked silence.

"You-what?" I ask, slightly cautiously.

"Saw. I meant saw." I nod, still slightly shocked, and George went red, and silent. It had become increasingly awkward, "So... I'm going to go head up stairs and... Um... Do some... reading?" I say, trying desperately to break the awkwardness of the moment.

Lockwood consulted his watch, "I, err, don't think you should, because Miss Calour is due, right..." Lockwood checked his watch again. " _Now_." I sat down on the sofa and tried to ignore George glaring at the back of head, when I turned away. George stood up and started brushing a few non-existent crumbs underneath the sofa.

As George brushed the last few non-existent crumbs under the sofa, there was a knock on the door. It's a shame George hadn't bought out the china mug and cups of tea, because our client was posh. She sort of walked in, and the first thing she did was look at me, my clothes, and George, George's clothes, and give us a look of utter distain, then she started talking, loudly, and in a very posh voice, to Lockwood. So, while she was busy flirting with Lockwood and giving out many, many, many looks of distain and hatred towards me, which I had with most female clients lately, I zoned out. Completely. And it was only when George nudged me violently in the ribs, that I finally zoned back in again.

"Wh-yes?" I jerked my head up a little, "What did I miss?" George snorted,

"Only the _whole_ meeting. It's really unfortunate that I didn't think about taking notes, I would have, but I didn't think you'd have just sat there, being unhelpful, acting ridiculous and staring into space, so I _didn't_ take notes. _Sorry._ " Lockwood sighed again and filled me in on this ' _Miss Calour_ ,' person.

She was a wealthy person, with a lot of money, and was 20, as she had loudly told Lockwood, very 'young, and beautiful for her age' (not), and she was deeply regretting the loss of her boyfriend (not) and would really enjoy some 'friendly company' occasionally (just friendly, _sure._ ). That's what I got from George's small comments and snippets of speech and remarks, but Lockwood just told me everything I already knew, tapping, kid, little nephew, small child glow thing, etc., etc. It was, apparently, a very dreary meeting, which is easy to imagine.

George _did_ say that it perked up when Lockwood had to violently and rudely (' _it was gentle! And polite!_ ' Lockwood argued) shove her from his lap. That made me laugh.

It was then, that the snide voice of the ghost in the jar snuck into my head and remarked,

" _Having fun are we? Not for long... Death awaits heavy in the future..._ "

Rather than tell Lockwood and George that I was hearing the ghost again, and having to remark exactly what was said, and being told not to trust the ghost, and how dangerous the connection was, and not to worry, and all that, I just made a mental note about what the ghost said, told Lockwood that I wasn't hungry yet, and that I'll have a piece of toast later, and departed for some ' _rapier practise,_ ' while they had lunch. In truth, I was just going to ask the ghost why he chose that moment to strike, but I knew that Lockwood knew that I was lying about something. He was impossible at times.

"Lucy... You need to eat; besides, it's not safe for you to go near that jar alone, either." I wanted to tell Lockwood that he was right, and that the ghost had talked to me, and that I was, in fact, _really, really, really_ hungry, but I didn't. Stupid, stupid me.

"Lockwood: I won't go near the jar! You know me! Why would I _deliberately_ go and talk to an evil ghost in a jar, when I can talk to human life, with real purpose?" Lockwood sighed,

"That's the thing, Luce, I don't know you. You're unpredictable, and 'why would [you] _deliberately_ go and talk to an evil ghost in a jar?' Well, I don't know! Why would _somebody_ go and steal Annie Ward's necklace? Why would _somebody_ then release this ghost into the house?" My turn to sigh.

"Okay, I agree, I am unpredictable at times," George snorted, " _But,_ I did _not_ steal Annie's necklace and I swear I won't do anything stupid or reckless in the next hour." Lockwood raised an eyebrow,

"What about after that, Lucy? Hm? You are the most unpredictable, and prone to danger, human being I have _ever_ met, and I have met a lot of reckless and prone to danger people." He smiles at me, lighting up the room, and I realise that there really is no convincing him, so I give in, and follow him to the kitchen, where George busied himself with making sandwiches, and Lockwood sits down on a chair, flicking through his trashy magazines.

I sit in the chair opposite and try to listen to the skull, without attracting attention from Lockwood and George, opening all my inner senses, I listened. I could sense the skull's presence in my head, even though I couldn't hear it. Kind of creepy, so I did something I had never thought I would find myself doing: _I_ talked to the skull first.

" _You there?_ " I asked it.

" _Maybe, maybe not._ " I took that as a yes.

" _Look, who's going to die? Me, Lockwood, George, someone else? I'd like a straight forward answer, please._ " I didn't know whether I wanted to know, or not, but I knew that I'd be better off prepared than unprepared.

" _Can't say, besides, why are you asking now? But I_ _ **can**_ _tell you that a pleasant visitor is to be expected very soon._ " The skull showed me an image, something it had never done before. It showed me an image of my mother and sisters.

" _Why? Why are they coming now, after all these years? Why?!_ " I demand, curious, and yet also afraid. I hadn't seen my mother since the day I ran away. _Why,_ why now? That was my greatest question.

" _Curiosity kills all the cats. Be patient._ "

" _Yes,_ " I say impatiently, " _But satisfaction brings them all back._ " This was no time to be polite; I could hear George saying something, so someone must've noticed me going off to la-la land with the creepy ghosts.

" _Well, that's not nice. I should think I'm not creepy at all. I should think you'd have gotten used to ghosts invading your mind._ "

" _Ghosts invading my mind aren't something that's easy to get used to,_ " I think back, before the ghost cut the connection.

 **.oO0Oo.**

"Lucy! Why? Why?" Lockwood demanded, "After you _gave your word_ that you wouldn't do anything stupid, or reckless, once again, you go and do it. Why? Why, Lucy?" I was getting slightly annoyed, Lockwood had been going on for only a few minutes, but it was George's smug face that set me off. Fortunately, I was saved by the doorbell being rung.

"I'll get it," George said, rather hastily, obviously not wanting to stop Lockwood losing his thread, but Lockwood stopped him,

"We don't have a client though... George-did you order the shopping early?" George shook his head.

"Lucy...?" I look him in the eye as best as I could,

"No idea." He knew I was lying. I could tell. He looked at me, asking me to tell him what the ghost said through his eyes.

" _Nothing_! The ghost said nothing!" The doorbell rang again, "George, whoever it is isn't going to stay forever, so you'd better go get it." George nodded and scampered off to get the door. I could hear George's accusing and questioning tones being used to full their fullest extent.

"What did the ghost say?" He looked at me with curiosity and a hint of annoyance at my reluctance.

"He said stuff about my... Family." I said, heavily. Lockwood frowned.

"But, you said that you had run away, how would they know where to come?" He asked.

"Well, I did communicate with the dead and all, it doesn't go unnoticed, even where I'm from." I said, noticing the voices getting louder, and certainly more than one. George came in, frowning,

"Lucy, next time could you please _tell_ us when your family is due to visit." I sighed slightly and got up; I opened the door to the porch and was crushed by my sisters and mother, all hugging me in an instance.

 **A/N: I am so SSOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYY! I'm not even going to try to excuse not writing for so long... Cookies to all reviews () ( ) (::), and yes, I did fit in Glo. Or Florge. Or Feorge, or Glorge.**


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